BLOOMS OF THE BERRY.
Leap I on a whisp of broom,-
Cheer'ly, cheer'ly through the gloom,-
All aneath a round-cheeked moon,
Treading on her silver shoon
Lightly o'er the gloam.
III.
Or the cowslip on the bent
Lift her head,
Or the glow-worm's lamp be spent,
Whitely dead:
'Neath lank ferns I laughing lie,
'Neath the ferns full warily
Hid away,
Where the drowsy musk-rose blows
And a fussy runnel flows,
Sleeping with the Fadry
Under leafy canopy
All the holyday.
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